Mar. 18th, 2015

[identity profile] glennagirl.livejournal.com
Because I forgot that Yesterday wasn't Today.
:~~~~~:~~~~~:~~~~~:~~~~~:~~~~~:~~~~~:~~~~~:

"I thought you're off today, another 24 hours to recuperate from that knock on the head."

Napoleon had last seen his partner as he tried to overcome the nausea of breakfast.  Now here he was suited up, sitting in the office.

"I feel… fine.  I simply…"

Illya fumbled for words,  indicating he wasn't fine.

"You forgot!  You woke up this morning and forgot you weren't supposed to work."

Kuryakin hated concussions, the effects were unpredictable after the first fifteen or twenty of them.

"Fine, but I'm not going home."
love012

He instead went to the sofa and curled up.

Asleep.

Fine.

:~~~:

[identity profile] mrua7.livejournal.com

Napoleon found Illya at his desk in the office they shared; looking someone perplexed.


“What’s wrong?”


There was a paper in the Russian’s hand and pointed to it.


“If you read the Wednesday morning memo….as I do, you would understand.”


Solo had the bad habit of ignornig them as they were mundane trivialities; Illya always brought him up to snuff. Nothing ever upset the usual stalwart Russian until now.


“Okay I’ll bite. What’s going on?”


“All reports are now limited to exactly 100 words.”


Napoleon snatched the paper. “What sort of drivel is this?”


“Not drivel...drabble.”


“Drabble?”


“Drabble.”
[identity profile] glennagirl.livejournal.com
I just found this entry over in mfu_map_room It is by one of our new members, rosewit New name, but she's a veteran among us.  Take a gander and hold onto your seats because you might just lift off at some point.
Flight by rosewit
[identity profile] jantojones.livejournal.com
Tuning out all of the distractions and noises around him, he peered through the sight on the weapon. It was ever so slightly off, but that wasn’t a problem for a seasoned marksman. The gun was held in rock steady hands as he picked out the target. As slowly as he dared, while ensuring his aim was true, the man gently squeezed the trigger.

The projectile found its mark, and the quarry was knocked flat.

“Oh Napoleon!” cried Maria. “That was amazing.”

She kissed him passionately before he handed her the large, pink, stuffed teddy bear he had just won.

.

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Section VII Propaganda and Public Relations

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